


Bright Colors of Sadness Transformed

by Creedmes



Series: The Mental Abyss [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (there is no suicide just a slight reference to it don't worry), Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Guy Uncle Coran, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Mental Anguish, Self-Hatred, reference of suicide, unexplained character depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 08:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creedmes/pseuds/Creedmes
Summary: Struggling with depression and feeling unworthy with everything, Keith holed himself up in his room to cry it out. As his thoughts grew more cruel, he’s secretly thankful a kind face came to check on him before something worse could come to mind that would have only hurt him more.





	Bright Colors of Sadness Transformed

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a vent fic yesterday, but I stopped halfway and came back to it a little later and felt sort of better. So I gave it a better ending than just leaving it as angst. I was just having a hard time yesterday and my own thoughts seemed particularly cruel . . . just felt like shit and thought I was shit, you know? So, I kind of projected that onto Keith and then made him have a happier ending because he's been through enough.
> 
> When I wrote this, I had two songs in mind while the story slowly came together. If anyone’s interested, I would like to recommend listening to two vocaloid songs: [Those Who Carried On by GHOST on youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlhgKHHqpL0) and [Kaleidoscope Haze by Project Overdoze on youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3EumJm6iw8)
> 
> These two songs helped me write this story to give it a little something more than it just being another vent fic. My interpretations of the songs are just that: interpretations. So don’t think they’re 100% accurate. Everyone hears a song a little bit differently.
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://creedmes.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/creedmes)

“ _ You’ll _ never amount to anything.”

“No one will love  _ you _ if  _ you’re _ gonna be like this forever.”

“Do  _ you _ seriously think  _ your _ friends actually care about  _ you _ ?”

“As if anyone was going to accept someone like  _ you _ .”

He could feel himself breaking under the overwhelming pressure that settled over him like a thick shroud. All of these horrendous thoughts swarmed him and nipped at his mind like hungry maggots; biting and chewing at his very being until he became nothing but a husk of his former self. Everything in his mind hurt having to think about anything right now, but he was only torturing himself by letting these feelings get to him. He couldn’t help it. If he was going to cry about something, he might as well find a good reason to get the tears started. The only problem was that once he found a thought to cry about, it didn’t stop and it forced him to crumble and accept them as the awful truths he secretly believed them to be.

Lying on his bed with his legs curled up to his body with his arms hugging himself since no one else was around to offer comfort, Keith just laid there. Staring at the gray wall with nothing but bad thoughts running through his mind like it was the only thing he was capable of doing anymore. He didn’t even look for imperfections in the smooth wall. He’s never noticed anything on the walls before. Why would there ever be anything new or interesting to look at on the wall now?

He had to stop thinking so negatively whenever an inconsolable episode overtook him. But it was never easy to crawl out of once the pit of sadness consumed his mind and pinned him to his bed. He could just accept that it was happening and soon it’ll disappear if given enough time to get through it. He just had to try and ignore the ugly fact that those words had been said only by him and it was only ever directed to himself. Because it was so painfully true that there wasn’t any possible way he could deny it.

It was quiet and drab in his small room. He liked his solitude and especially enjoyed his time when he didn’t have to worry about being bothered by anyone. But right now, loneliness was the last thing he ever thought he wanted. He wanted someone to see through the vague hints he gave at the dinner table a few hours ago to realize he wanted help. He just couldn’t bring himself to be vulnerable enough to ask for a sympathetic ear to vent into. And for that fact, he regretted not speaking up when he could have.

It felt like his brain pounded against his skull while he listened to the sounds of his nose sniffling and his heaving breaths. He had a small radio turned on and was listening to a song he never considered to be relevant for how he felt right now. A song with a killer beat and beautiful robotic voices had enticed him when he had first heard it a handful of weeks ago. But now that he was actually listening to the lyrics and how the tone of the song went, he realized it was almost too much to bear. It was like the singers were describing his situation and he didn’t want to accept it that they were monologuing for him. It was nearly too much for him that he felt his heart skipping a beat every time he let out a stuttering breath between a new wave of tears.

But he refused to shut the radio off. He refused to stop thinking about how shitty he felt and the swarm of self-hatred that engulfed him. His coping mechanism was to cry it out and hope he’ll feel better once he got all of these raw, misunderstood emotions out of his system. He liked to believe it worked by the time he was done with these pointless tears, but having to suffer through it was always the part he disliked the most.

Fat tears had already soaked his pillowcase on one side, and he had turned it over only for more tears to wet the other side as well. Everything about these violent thoughts and feelings hurt him and he had no one he wanted to confide in. He was conflicted with wanting to talk about how upset he was for a truly unexplainable reason, but he was also terrified of someone seeing him like this.

Helpless. Vulnerable. Exposed. Weak. Frail. Disappointing. Loathsome.

As more unreasonable thoughts of anguish flooded over him like a new tidal wave, Keith pinched his eyes closed and buried his face into the pillow. His body shook as he cried into the soft material of the pillowcase. Just like with these bouts of wild emotions, fresh and raw like the first batch and the ones before it, the tears on the pillow will disappear with time. He was sure of it. So long as he didn’t bottle up these feelings for too long, everything might turn out alright for him in the end. Hopefully . . .

A headache bloomed on his forehead and settled behind his tired eyes. Groaning against the pain, Keith curled into a tighter ball. He released his arms from hugging himself long enough to sit up and pull a blue blanket up to hide under. Keeping his head out so he didn’t overheat or breath in stale air, Keith let his weary eyes stare somewhere near the other end of his room. He looked at the space where the wall met the smooth surface of the floor. Gray meeting gray, Keith lost himself in the colorless void of his bedroom.

So long as he felt the weight of the soft blue blanket hugging him close, he believed he’d feel relatively safe so he can release his climbing mental torrent of feelings in private. At least there was  _ something _ here that was able to hold him during all of this.

He knew this thing always had the same play-by-play every time it showed up unexpectedly for him. He would accidentally wind up being reminded of something that had caused him some sort of anguish and upset. Then he’d wind up dwelling on it and soon find himself spiraling in a whirlpool; one he couldn’t easily swim himself out of. And once he was in the middle of the pool and caught between the harsh waves, he’d sink into despair and succumb to whatever had been bothering him. It happened every time and he was already stuck at the bottom. Now he was waiting for his chance to rise to the surface and escape before it could sweep him back under to drown him again.

Between his sniffling, Keith strained to listen to the low volume of the song he had set on repeat. The lyrics danced mockingly around his brain as if the words had joined hands and laughed at him. When he decided he had enough of it, Keith growled as he shot up from bed to slam a hand down hard on the bright red off button on the radio. He collapsed back down and felt the white pillow fluff up when his head landed back down on it. The words hung around in the air but at least he was granted absolute silence with only a little bit of a ringing in his ear at how quiet the room suddenly was.

Negativity pecked at any part it could reach on his person, but he didn’t try to keep it from doing its thing.  _ Eat me _ , he thought to himself.  _ Take me and dispose of me however you see fit. I’m not worth the air I breathe and I just want this all to stop. _

Keith pushed out his lower lips as he tried to stifle another wave that crept up behind him out of nowhere. He could feel metaphorical hands reaching for him; tearing at his clothes to rake sharp talon-like fingers along his skin until there were dozens of red lines and marks left in its creeping wake. Those hands that don’t exist would rest on his neck to try and hurt him there. To squeeze his windpipe until his skin turned pale blue and it would force him to struggle to breathe. The world would turn gray and then it would all vanish in an expanse of black. Those hands would then caress his face so gently, so tenderly, like it only wanted to make him suffer and realize that while he may hate himself now, it would never be enough for him to want to end it all. 

Shaking his head at himself, Keith sat up on his bed and slapped himself across the face. Hard. Until he guaranteed himself there would be a pink mark from his hand left on his soft skin.

“Don’t think like that,” he yelled into the empty room. Cradling either side of his head with both hands, he shook while he scolded himself. “You can’t expect to feel better by believing something like killing yourself would fix this. This world and your mind may be cruel at times, but you can’t do that to yourself. You just can’t. You need . . . you need to stay alive and be great. Everyone depends on you to go and be great.”

Keith continued to yell and call himself hurtful things for thinking such horrendous thoughts when the sound of his bedroom door beeped. Someone was coming, and based on how they hadn’t knocked before letting themselves in, Keith had an idea who it was going to be. He didn’t have time to think about anything. He was certain his face was an absolute mess: mottled with a red blush around his eyes and nose, and wet lashes where tears had soaked them until they matted together. Not to mention the stinging pain on his cheek when he had slapped himself a second ago. All Keith could do was use a hand to brush some of the hair that fell over his face to the side before the door opened.

As expected, the kind and mustachioed smile of Coran showed up when the door finally revealed who was standing on the other side. His hands were tucked behind his back as if he was just casually making his rounds and checking on everyone. But when Coran’s eyes settled on the state Keith was in where he sat on his bed, his chipper attitude immediately shifted into something more caring, yet alert for danger.

“Lad? What’s the matter here? You look like you’ve been crying.” Coran stepped into the room and approached the bed, but then he stopped. He was trying his best to learn boundaries, and Keith could tell that he was only trying to help.

“That’s because I’m still doing that. Crying, I mean.” Keith scooted back and pushed his pillow to the side so his back could press up against the wall. He curled his legs up by his chest to give Coran room to sit if he chose to sat down on the bed. When he remained standing there, Keith gestured he could sit if he wanted. Coran nodded and complied by settling himself on the edge of the bed relatively close to Keith, all while still respecting his need for personal space.

The door whirred as it finally shut. Neither of them looked to acknowledge it. Keith stared at Coran while he wiped some tears and sweat off the sides of his nose with the heel of his hand. He watched as Coran set something down in his lap to stretch out his arms. He must have been hiding it behind his back. Keith didn’t want to seem curious about whatever odd contraption the man might have on him at any given time. He just knew he didn’t have the energy to listen if Coran wanted to talk extensively about whatever it was.

Rather than Coran taking notice of Keith staring at the strange item—which was in the shape of a cylinder—he gave a slight nod and stared off somewhere just above Keith’s left shoulder.

“I understand that there are times when emotions can run high,” Coran started. He looked back to Keith and gave him a kind, reassuring grin. Keith didn’t have it in him to return it. “We’re always stressed and sometimes when we finally have a moment to ourselves, we suddenly realize the things we didn’t know were bothering us all this time. I would never lie to any of you, but I’ve struggled with hard feelings as well. Just so you know, Keith, you’re not alone in whatever it is that’s upsetting you right now.”

Keith didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to look at Coran because he knew he might cry for another reason if he stared at him too long. He was always an emotional wreck whenever someone showed him any sort of kindness when he was in one of his emotional phases. He averted his eyes to look back at the wall on the opposite side of the room again. He wanted to talk but he also didn’t trust his voice at the moment.

“I may not know what this is all about with you, but I just want you to know that everything will get better with time.” Coran let out a weary sigh and soon replaced his neutral expression with a sad grin. “You know you have friends here who care deeply for you, right?”

In his periphery, Keith saw Coran picking up the strange device and peering through it like a telescope. He couldn’t tell if Coran was able to see anything since he wasn’t sure if it had some sort of lens or opening. Keith turned his head to watch as Coran shifted his head around and looking all around Keith’s room with that cylinder pressed to his eye like he was a space pirate searching for some bounty. When Coran pulled it away from his face, he saw Keith watching him and he gave Keith a gentle smile.

“Sorry, lad. I know that you’re struggling with something, and I know you all too well. I know you don’t usually divulge in your feelings with others, but would you be willing to talk to me about it, at least? I would love to help guide you back to a happier point in life, if given the chance.”

Keith’s eyes fell down to stare at the wrinkles in his blue blanket rather than answer. While holding his head down, he felt some tears leak out of his eyes to trail down his face. The twin streams met at the curve of his jawline and traveled down to the point of his chin where they joined together before falling onto the blanket. He didn’t take in stuttered breaths as he continued to cry, which was a silent relief. But he was far from feeling better.

He looked up for a moment to see Coran fiddling with the device he still held. When Coran noticed Keith watching him again, he gave Keith a more sympathetic expression.

“I know you’re a more reserved individual, Keith. I won’t pressure you to talk if you don’t want to. I don’t mean to be a bother to you either.” Coran turned the device round and round as if he was searching for something of interest on it. From where he sat, Keith couldn’t see anything spectacular about it. It was just a long black cylinder with nothing on it. For all he knew, it could just be a metal tube Coran had painted and was playing around with. Coran’s voice was calm and sincere when he spoke up next. “Whenever I’m sad about something, I always try to think about something positive to get me back to myself. Do you like being sad and alone, Keith?”

“No.” It came out as a cracked whisper.

“I figured no one really likes being stuck in such a state. I know that humans have a very short lifespan compared to other galactic aliens such as myself and Allura. For you to be stuck in your room while you’re going through this sad moment, you can’t afford to waste too much time all by yourself.” Coran tried his best to keep his voice level and his eyes trained to look at Keith without appearing intimidating. Keith knew Coran wouldn’t dare try to pry for information when it regarded him.

He was right to say that Keith was reserved, but the thing the older Altean had told him stuck with him far more than it should have. He was trying to say that life was short and that he shouldn’t hole himself up in his room or else he’ll be wasting a big portion of his life. He wasn’t sure if being half-Galran would change that factor for him, but he didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t need to think about how short life was and how he was taking a huge portion of his life away from himself by hiding like this to let his wild emotions run him into the ground. At least Coran seemed to make a seemingly reasonable point. He should be able to enjoy life while he’s living it right now.

“If you ever find yourself struggling or need someone to listen, don’t be afraid to ask, alright?” Coran stared at him until Keith gave him an answer. Keith gave a simple nod of his head, and thankfully Coran accepted it.

Keith didn’t feel like listening to any more of Coran trying to bring his mood back up. He’s had enough emotions for one day and wanted to change the subject. He brought up the edges of his blanket to wipe both sides of his face from the drying tears. At least with his eyes hurting and his head still pounding, he didn’t think he really had anymore tears left in his system.

“Coran?” Keith tried with a harsh rasp. Clearing his throat, he waited until the man looked back at him, who gave Keith an encouraging grin. Keith tore his eyes away from Coran to stare at the strange thing still in the man’s hands. He made a vague gesture in its direction and asked, “What’s that thing you have?”

Lifting it up, Coran beamed as he handed it over for Keith to take. Once Keith unwrapped his hands from the bunched up blue blanket he had tucked around himself, he reached out to carefully take the strange item.

“I found it when I went back to one of those unilu shops. I had done some investigating to see if that one shop had anymore teledav lenses and found this strange beauty on a shelf.” Twiddling the curled end of his mustache, Coran smirked to himself as he told Keith about how he was able to trade one pair of ratty old gloves for the device. He laughed when he mentioned how upset the unilu was when he realized he had been schemed by the mighty Coran once again. “He said it was something that came from Earth and it somehow found its place at his shop. But now I have it. Here, let me show you something.”

With that, Coran dove a hand into the pocket of his pants to fish something out. Keith watched as he pulled out a sheet of paper full of random, bright colors. Red, pink, orange, green, purple, yellow. So many variegated colors filled the sheet in splotches and random shapes that weren’t exactly discernible. Handing the paper to Keith as well, Coran instructed him to hold the device up to his eye; just like how Coran had done a moment ago.

Rather than argue with the man over something so strange, Keith followed his instructions. On one end of the cylinder was a dip with a glass-covered hole in the center. Holding it close to his eye, Keith looked around his very dull and gray bedroom to see it explode through the lens into a bunch of shifting and swirling shapes that made him feel dizzy. Every time he looked up and down, and left and right, the lens he looked through created some sort of psychedelic visual experience.

He knew exactly what this device was and he didn’t even have to look at the paper to know what was going to happen. Holding out the sheet in front of him, Keith pointed the lens at the paper to watch a world of color stretch and bend before his eye. While he watched the swirling colors hypnotize him for a spell, Coran told Keith what he already suspected and knew.

“I was told this thing is called a kaleidoscope. There’s a bunch of mirrors inside that tube that’s able to create these beautiful effects. I find it very relaxing and entertaining to play with. The colors on that paper make for some very unique shapes and designs if I do say so myself.”

Without taking the kaleidoscope away from his eye, Keith used it to look up at Coran. He didn’t bother hiding the sudden smile that found its way on his face at what he saw. There were at least eight Corans from what he was able to count. All of them with their smiling, mustachioed faces stared back at Keith as if he was watching a child experiencing something amazing for the first time. Keith didn’t want to burst Coran’s bubble of excitement to tell him that he already knew what a kaleidoscope was and decided to play along. He watched as eight Corans spoke to him using only one voice.

“So what do you think about it, lad? It’s quite fun, I believe. Very colorful and silly.”

Taking it away from his eye, Keith let out a quiet laugh at Coran’s enthusiasm. He nodded his head and had to bring a hand up to wipe away some wetness that found its way underneath his eye. He wasn’t sure if it was tears or sweat, and he didn’t want to think about it. Whatever it was, it was gone now.

“Tell you what, why don’t you borrow that if you ever need a pick-me-up? You seem like you could use it more than I do.” Coran’s suggestion was kind, but Keith didn’t want to take something from the man for his own gain. He couldn’t bring himself to accept such an offer and had to decline. But Coran insisted. “Nope. You can use it whenever you need. And besides…” Coran bent down close so that his face was a foot away from Keith’s. He pulled on his mustache and narrowed his eyes when he told Keith, “Staring at people through that lens makes for some very fun conversations. Would you like to bug the other paladins and the princess with me?”

Keith laughed at such a thing. He couldn’t believe the mischievous attitude Coran had just conjured up, but he was glad that there was at least someone here who took notice of his upset to offer help Keith didn’t know he wanted until now. He had told himself he didn’t want anyone bothering him because he didn’t want to appear vulnerable to anyone. He didn’t want to look helpless or loathsome or even weak.  But with Coran and his lively disposition, Keith couldn’t think of anyone better who could have been more helpful.

“Sure,” Keith caught himself saying.

“Come on then, lad. I’m pretty sure everyone’s hanging out in the lounge. They could be none the wiser with this neat little contraption. Let’s go!”

Taking the offered hand, Keith let Coran pull him up as he untangled himself from his massive blue blanket. He made sure he had the colorful sheet of paper and the kaleidoscope in hand as they walked out of Keith’s gray bedroom to show the others the world of color hidden inside the small black cylinder. When they entered the hallway and walked down toward the lounge area, Keith listened as the door whirred itself closed.

The hands that clawed at him earlier were trapped inside that room and would disappear with time if he didn’t let himself think about it. So long as he didn’t think about how upset he had gotten himself, then maybe he’ll be able to feel a little bit better. Who would have thought that Coran of all people would be the one to pull Keith out of the pit. To pull him out of the whirlpool of despair to keep him from drowning underneath the waves of emotions again.


End file.
